


Operation Midnight Blizzard

by AmericanTimelord



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Graphic Violence, Torture, WWIII AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 11:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2023221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmericanTimelord/pseuds/AmericanTimelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This whole operation today was just a disaster...Damn Russia...It was so obviously a trap. It's worth it though, everyone else got out safely...let's just see if I can get myself out of this in one piece...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_God...I'm such a goddamn fucking idiot...How the hell did I let myself get captured...If only I had come with a bigger operation force...Nah, that wouldn't have worked either. This whole operation today was just a disaster...Damn Russia...It was so obviously a trap. It's worth it though, everyone else got out safely...let's just see if I can get myself out of this in one piece._

* * *

 

“Ah Mr. America, I see you're awake. Good. I have so much in store for you”

They had all made it back to the nearest headquarters, the operation to retrieve America already approved. His squadron, no his country, would never let him be in that Russian bastard's hands for long.

“I'm Brigadier General Grayson of the 27th Fighter Squadron, nice to meet you again Mr. Kirkland, or Sir Kirkland isn't it?”

“Don't worry about those silly titles, lad, you can call me Arthur”

“Oh? I really don't think that's appropriate”

“Well do as you wish then”

“Excuse me sir. We are awfully busy right now. I'm about two minutes away from a very dangerous infiltration mission”

“Yes, that's why I'm here, Operation Midnight Blizzard. I need to go with you”

“You what? Oh no, no. I've heard plenty from the General about how much you hate flying”

“Please, you don't understand. I need to help him”

“Look, the RAF are flying on our mission too. Why can't you just ride with them? Wouldn't that be more appropriate”

“I know you will be the one going in. Help me out would you?”

“Absolutely no! There is no way I am taking responsibility for you. I would have too much explaining to do if something happened to you”

“Fine, I order you to take me”

“You have no authority over me. In case you forgot, I'm an American pilot”

“For God's sake man, just bloody well help me”

“Since you asked so, very nicely...”

“Are you all this insufferable?”

“No, I am just together with Mr. Jones a lot. Get a flight suit on, we're leaving soon”

Oh just fuck Siberia and its' awful weather. It was so freaking cold, no matter where you were, not to mention what I thought was a dungeon, was like laying in snow. I had to remember, never to show how much it hurt, just a straight face. Russia's boots were a deafening noise, leather on a concrete floor. It was a spectacle alright, but the things on the other side of the room did distress me a bit. He grabbed a contraption from the far desk, it looked like something out of a scifi movie though.

“Now Mr. Jones, you tell me about your allies' plans, da?”

“Really? Just jump right to the question? Why would I answer you?”

“Because, little Mr. America does not know what will happen if he does not”

“Well fuck that, give me your best shot”

“I was with the hope that you would be saying that”

He messed with the little sphere thing, thrusting it in the back of my neck. It let loose a spike or something, penetrating through to my windpipe. Other arms came around and did the same to the front of my neck.

“What is this...even for?”

“Nothing, except for this”

 _Just wonderful...it conducts electricity..._ was all I could think of as about 90 volts ran through my body.

“Electro-torture? That's really what you came up with?”

“Now why does America not just tell me the plans? Does he enjoy this pain?”

“No, it's just unlike you, I don't ever betray my allies”

“You are a good comrade to them then. Too bad you choose wrong side in this war”

“Chose the wrong side? I didn't choose my side, I didn't even want this fu*king war!”

“That is not mattering. I will get the information out of you eventually”

* * *

 

God why was I in a plane? I bloody hate planes. Why did Alfred have to be the selfless hero and get himself captured. Who knows what the damn communist would be doing to him now. He would never reveal anything about us though, so it was mainly his well-being that was in jeopardy...as well as mine. One of these God-awful flying death traps was taking me to Russia at nearly 2600 kilometres per hour...At least we knew exactly where he was located, we were prepared. His new dog tags had a satellite tracking device in them, though now he had three of them around his neck. He always wore them, after WWI that is. After we touched down, it was just a half hour or so before we could get him, that is, if all went well.

Electricity can really start to mess up your nervous system after a while...It was harder and harder to move as time went on. Sometimes I wish I was able to die, it would have saved quite a bit of agony as what was to come, but then again, it would be totally not worth it.

“When will you learn Mr. Jones? Just tell me what I want to know, and you'll be comfortable again”

Wounds dripped blood from all over my body, as he saw it fit to run a knife anywhere he damned well pleased. I lost so much blood that my vision was fogging and I was really light headed.

“It does not have to be your plans, just any of your allies will work,da”

“Go...fuck yourself...you communist bastard...”

“Fine, you give me no choice”

A thundering noise was heard from outside the room, probably upstairs. I was a bit distracted, but that wouldn't have changed anything seeing as though he ran his goddamned pipe through my stomach, pinning me to the floor.

“I need to attend to the commotion up the stairs. It will only be a minute”

I writhed under the force of the large lead pipe, trying to force myself up and off of it, but that didn't work. He pulled out a pistol from his coat pocket, resting it pointed at my head.

“Oh, but that would be too easy”

He moved down a foot or so and pulled the trigger, right over, what I'm sorry to say, was my heart.

“That will stop you from moving and escaping, da?”

Wave after wave of pain racked my body for a few seconds, but then I lost all feeling to any part of my body. Well if I had any plans on doing anything for weeks...they were out the window now. Not twenty seconds later, my breathing collapsed.

* * *

 

Storming Russia's house after the air raid was a lot simpler than we had planned for. It seemed that we brought too many troops, but at least the operation would go smoothly. I heard a shot down in the basement and feared the worst. The Americans had unloaded everything they brought with them on the house, virtually emptying it. Grayson and I made our way down the stairs with no resistance at all, though we would have been prepared for anything with the arsenal he had with him. The room was pitch black, though we soon corrected that. My heart just sank in my chest, I thought his plane evacuation would have been his worst injuries, I was horribly wrong.

“First things first Mr. Kirkland. Let's get those things off of him”

I was gingerly and deliberately removing the pieces embedded in his neck, the same could not be said of the Brigadier General.

“3...2...1”

He pulled the water tool out quickly, dropping it to the floor as it rolled across the room. We finished removing the contraption from his neck and still nothing, no signs from Alfred at all. I touched his face, it was cold and getting paler by the minute. Cuts covered his entire body, but I finally found the real problem, a hole straight through his chest.

“That communist bastard went too far. How dare he...”

“Now's not the time Sir, our mission is to get Mr. Jones out of here”

“Of course”

I picked him up, lifting his back and legs, looking for any signs of life. His breathing had stopped, though should come back in a few hours if we played our cards right. He moved like a rag doll in my arms, nothing at all coming from the usually energetic American. I had to cradle his head to prevent any more injury, surprised that his glasses were still in tact. We got him back to the jet, only about an hour from the base.

I barely lifted my eyelids, but was immediately bombarded by a sea of white. _I'm dead? Well I didn't think that was possible._ Then my vision focused a bit more and I saw how ridiculous that last thought was, it was just a ceiling. I looked around, seeing basically my whole body wrapped up in bandages. I could only muster enough energy to get my head up. _That took a lot more out of me than I thought it would._ At least I was breathing again, though that had its downsides too, as I now felt all of the pain from earlier.

“You bloody git...You gave us quite a task going to get you”

“Yah...sorry...I just...”

“Don't bother, I doubt you can even form a sentence right now after all you've been through. It took four hours you know, to fix that hole in your heart. It will certainly be days before you can even walk around properly. It was quite a daunting ordeal to go and get you, but everyone was glad to have you back on our side”

“Thanks...”

“Alfred, why do you insist on being the self-righteous hero? You went through all of this because you did it on your own. You've always gotten on me for not accepting help, but isn't this a bit hypocritical?”

“I just...couldn't let ever....everyone die...I can't help...being the hero”  
“I know you can't Alfred, I know you can't”

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey, Iggy…do you have a …cat…by any chance?”

Arthur almost spilled his tea, and he glanced over at the striped furball cleaning its coat outside his house.

“…How the hell did you know…”

“Cause I have one outside, and it won’t go away! I called Mattie too…he had the same issue.”

Arthur leaned the phone between his ear and shoulder to pour himself a new cup.

“Well, any explanation for this phenomenon?”

He heard Alfred sigh dramatically. “Nope!”

Arthur sipped his tea. “Heh! I’ll bet twenty pounds it’s Russia!”

Silence filled the receiver. Arthur set down the cup quickly, eyes wide, and stuttered into the receiver. “God, I’m so – I didn’t mean to say that, Alfred, I swear!!”

Only two weeks early, Alfred had been rescued from Russia after a horrid day or two of terrible torture. The bastard, after finishing with the American, decided it wasn’t enough, and shot him right through the heart, leaving him, by all human standards, dead. A close shave indeed, that Arthur and member’s of Alfred’s division finally came across him just in time.

With the Cold War in full bloom and that incident, Ivan’s name was no joking matter, a concept Arthur had inconveniently forgotten. Alfred finally responded.

“I know, Iggy.” The accepted apology still did nothing to shake Arthur’s slight guilt.

“So…h-how are you feeling?”

A slight hiss of pain met his question as he heard Alfred move imperceptibly on whatever he was sitting on.

“Well, besides not breathing properly yet, I’m just peachy.”

“…it’s only been two weeks, you should ask the doctors to check it again. Just in case, you know…”

“Iggy, I’m fine. It’s just a hole through my heart and part of my lung, no biggie. But that’s just the gunshot.”

Arthur nearly face-palmed himself.

“Two weeks is not enough time to heal from such wounds! Bloody hell, you can’t even call yourself recovered!”

“The doc tried to get me to stay, but they couldn’t really make me. I don’t see how you’re so upset about this anyway, It’s not like I can die. I don’t see any problem.”

“The problem is you worry me half-to-death with your ‘I’m totally fine’ when you obviously aren’t!”

“Dude, chill! It’s just a couple of fainting spells, It’s not like I’m-“

“Just?! You git, you are not fine! You can’t deal with this!” Arthur sipped his tea furiously and stood up, his mind made up.

“But I can, Iggy! I know I can deal because…it’s me. I guess…”

Arthur had the phone tucked by his ear as he went to his room to pack. He sighed.

“You could at least not run around half-blind like you usually do…”

Alfred snorted.

“Sorry, dude, but I have responsibilities. A hole in my heart totally doesn’t matter.”

Arthur shoved some clothing and toiletries in his suitcase and then ran down tot eh kitchen to grab a tin of tea.

“You could at least sit down while you do your responsibilities.”

“You can’t tell me what to do from across the ocean!” Alfred’s challenge echoed from across the line. Alfred a step ahead of you, Arthur thought.

“then I’ll just have to come over there.” He snapped the suitcase shut, the only noise he heard as Alfred lost words, taken by surprise.

“Wait…what?!”

“You heard me. If I can’t boss you around in my country, I’ll just go to yours.” Arthur lugged his luggage off his bed and went downstairs again to get his briefcase for his work and papers he would have to bring with him.

“But…I – well…if you are coming over…you know it wasn’t just the bullet wound, right…”

“Of course I do, but those other gashes and lacerations should have had time to heal, right?”

More dead silence from the other end. Arthur smacked his forehead and almost shouted into the receiver.

“You GIT!! I’m heading over there right now. Even if you somehow got out of the hospital you shouldn’t be bloody moving around enough to keep your wounds from healing! You are not going to step one foot out of your house, or your living room, for that matter!!”

“Fine, fine, jeez, Iggy. I’ll sit on the couch, is that good enough for you?”

“One toe out of line, and I swear…”

“I swear I won’t! Trust me dude, I won’t. But…don’t you need to get your work done as well? And you can’t just come waltzing over here without telling your government…”

“…I already did…before you called …and I can take my work with me, git.” Arthur said, putting on his coat and reminding himself to call his prime minister at the airport.

“But-“

“No buts, Alfred. I’ve taken care of it all. I’m coming, whether you like it or not.”

“…Fine. See ya then, Iggy.”

Arthur hung up the phone and grabbed his belongings, success welling inside albeit a little a confusion as well. He couldn’t remember a time when Alfred had agreed to Arthur coming over to look after him with so little complaint. He scowled; the git must be in a hell of a spot to accept help so readily. Arthur marched out his door.

~*~

“Hey…” Arthur greeted.

Alfred had actually opened the door for him…with a bullet hole like that? The mans’ strength would never cease to amaze him.

“Hey…I guess you really did come over here…I didn’t think you would…”

Arthur twitched. “Quite a lot of faith you have in me.” He growled, shoving himself into the house. He then proceeded to push his luggage next to the wall and lay his briefcase on the end table.

“Well, maybe I figured you were just all talk.” Alfred shut the door with a wince.

“You should know me better than that. I was completely serious.”

“Yeah, well…I wish you didn’t have to see me like this.”

Alfred was only wearing his bomber jacket on top, and so the bandages swathing his chest were clearly visible, and obviously hadn’t been changed. His hair was more disheveled than normal, making him look more like…someone…Iggy couldn’t place it. But the fact remained; he did not look well.

“Well, I’ve seen you covered in blood, close to a mental breakdown, and dead by all human standards.”

“But-“

“You know that’s not going to drive me away.”

Alfred sighed, and leaned on the wall. Arthur didn’t pretend not to notice the movement.

“You obviously haven’t been taking care of yourself.” He observed.

“I don’t have time to worry about it, I’ve been busy.”

“Obviously, and it isn’t healthy. A bullet to the heart, and you’re fine? Really, Alfred?”

“The hero isn’t supposed to show weakness!” Alfred exclaimed.

“Well, sometimes the hero is a stupid git and almost kills himself doing it!” Arthur was getting angry with Alfred not realizing how reckless he was being.

“I can’t die, so it wasn’t an issue! I was gonna take care of it myself, cause it was my fault!”

“You’re doing such a good job of it…” Arthur said sarcastically, then instantly regretted it at the American’s hurt look.

“…sorry. I won’t mention it again.”

Alfred smiled at him, apology accepted, then his face turned serious once again.

“It’s just…don’t you think I know by now what a stupid decision this was? Why the hell did I even try…”

“Because you’re you, Alfred.” Arthur was rummaging through his bag for his tea.

“Oh, and look what being me got me! A hole in my heart, a gash in my stomach, and my neck is filled with lacerations!”

Arthur looked up, tea forgotten.

“They’ll heal…if you actually give yourself time to rest…” he added pointedly. Alfred shook his head in a fury.

“No! I can’t, I…I have so much to do…”

“And I’m sure you can do it from the comfort of your own home, because I’m not letting you leave.” He said, laying a firm grip on Alfred’s shoulder.

“Arthur, I’m a full-grown country!! Are you sure that’s necessary?”

Arthur pretended to think for a moment. “Mmm….you have a hole in your heart, a gash in your stomach, and lacerations in your neck…” Alfred growled in unfortunate acceptance.

“…how long are you planning on staying…”

“As long as necessary.”

“Hovering a bit, are we?” Alfred smirked.

“…shut up, git.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“I know.”

“Then why- Ugh…” Alfred’s hand went to his head. Arthur panicked a bit.

“See? See?! Admit I was right. Just sit down, and don’t get up…” he was leading Alfred to the couch now. Alfred shook his head.

“No! It’s just a little lightheadedness is all…” Arthur jerked him to the couch again.

“I don’t want you fainting on me, or opening up your wounds. So, you will sit, and you will bloody like it! “

“I’m…stronger than you…you can’t make me…”

“Sit!!!” Patience run through, Arthur simply shoved Alfred backward onto the couch. Surprisingly enough, Alfred went without much of a fight.

“What the…” Alfred breathed heavily, “It shouldn’t have been that easy…”

“Believe me yet?” Arthur smirked a bit. This was a new feeling…

“Screw that! I can still overpower you!”

“I just successfully pushed you for the first time in years! Admit it, you can’t do much until you are healed!” Arthur crossed his arms.

“Shut up!! Alfred lifted himself off the couch. Completely without warning, his knees buckled underneath him and with his strength gone, he immediately began to fall. Arthur cried out a warning and ran to catch him. He was too late to keep him upright, and with no other choice, he grabbed Alfred and landed on the floor with his brother on top of him. He flinched at the added pressure on his torso. Alfred shook his head and looked down at his brother.

“Sorry…I didn’t think…”

“This is why I’m here…git.” Arthur squirmed. “Can you get off me without falling?”

“Of course I can!!” Alfred said indignantly. He staggered up and fell back on the couch with a sigh, and then winced. “Gah…When did it get this bad…”

Arthur sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. “It probably always had been…you just don’t tend to notice. Believe me yet?”

“…yeah.”

Arthur stood up and went to grab new bandages from the counter in Alfred’s barely used kitchen. Alfred’s voice came from the other room.

“Yes....but.....I just don’t know what to do anymore....he could be planning a counter attack any day now...” Arthur didn’t need to be a genius to know that Alfred was talking about Ivan.

“God… he's everywhere.....I thought this would have stopped after the Soviet Union dissolved.”

Arthur returned with the supplies along with a basin of water. He knelt next to his brother, and Alfred obligingly took the bomber jacket off his shoulders.

“I’m not going to ask you to stop worrying about it, but just remember that Russia isn’t omnipotent.” Arthur tried to comfort him, as he began removing the bandages from Alfred’s neck. Alfred winced.

“No but he's damn close to it......I guess I just have to be less aggressive.” Alfred sounded resigned. Arthur sighed at the sight of Alfred’s wounds, and gently began to clean them.

“Maybe, for a start...don’t provoke so many fights, but let him know you won’t stand for anything he does?”

“Don’t provoke? Everything I do provokes him!!!!” Alfred almost yelled, causing him to turn his neck in an unconventional way. A hiss of pain escaped his lips. Arthur rolled his eyes, but began to rewrap his neck, forcing Alfred to stay still.

“Calm down, will you? You have way too much pressure on you right now. This isn’t a problem that can be solved in the blink of an eye, You know that.”

“Yeah I know that much....It’s been like fifty years......”

“And it may be longer. Patience, Alfred. You have taken the USSR apart...doesn’t that count for something?” Arthur finished with Alfred’s neck, and he moved it tentatively, nodding in appreciation. Arthur moved on to his stomach.

“Yeah.....I mean.....I did get everyone out of there and into NATO...but…” Arthur interrupted him.

“Russia has no one but himself. People know that communism doesn’t work. Isn’t that a step forward? Think of it as glass half full.” Considering Arthur was usually glass half-empty, this was unexpected, even to him.

“Glass half full....just look at what that glass has done to me....its only been getting worse!” Arthur had finished cleaning the long row of stitches, undoubtedly going to turn into a nasty scar. Just the look of it made him want to flinch, and that wasn’t even the worst of the injuries.

“But you know you can take him. And you do have us...” Alfred graced his brother with a small smile, but was swallowed up in sorrow and despair once more. He put his hands to his face.

“God, why will he never give up…”

“Because Ivan’s a bastard.” Arthur state simply, beginning to wrap bandages around Alfred’s midsection again.

“I thought I had him under control...but I just don’t know anymore.” Alfred removed his hands and leaned back, allowing Arthur to slowly and hesitantly begin to tackle the enormous amount of wrappings on his chest. He paused, and then decided to rinse out the basin of dirty water first. He didn’t want to risk any infection.

“... He’s kidnapped you on multiple occasions...he doesn’t stop.” He observed on his way to the kitchen to dump the water out.

“I know....but the kidnappings were usually my fault for being so careless.” Alfred berated himself.

“They weren’t all your fault, and you know it. You just have to try not to be so careless in the future…”

“Ugh....it’s that I don’t expect him when he comes.....And the worst thing is, he knows exactly when to do it! He has so much damn intelligence on me...he doesn’t even want anything really, he just does it for fun!” He ended the statement almost shouting, leaving him doubled up trying to get his breath back from the pain surging through his chest. Arthur came into the room with the fresh water, and hurried over to straighten Alfred out.

“Well, then, try not to give him the satisfaction!” Alfred stared his brother in the eye.

“What? You think I willingly let him do this!? I freaking try, ok!?”

“I know you do! Maybe you could stop being caught alone so much…” He was still searching for suggestions to make this better, since Alfred wasn’t doing it himself.

“Well I’m sorry you guys can’t always be around!!” Arthur stared at him hard, and Alfred hung his head.

“I thought I finally had him beat in '91....but I guess I was wrong…”

Arthur finally gathered up his courage and began removing the bandages piled up

Alfred’s chest.

“He’s a persistent bastard, that’s for sure...” he remarked.

“God....I should have just shot him....I really should have.”

Arthur stopped what he was doing and immediately laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Maybe...but would it really have done anything in the long run...you could have intimidated him more, true.”

“No it wouldn’t have....that’s why I didn’t bother.” Alfred sighed. “I couldn’t do it anyway....I’m just a coward.” He closed his eyes in defeat.

“You aren’t a coward; you have a very strong sense or life.” Arthur assured him.

“Yeah… look at how far that's gotten me...” Arthur shook his shoulder gently.

“It’s made you a hell of a good person...if you had shot Russia, would that be bringing yourself down to his level?” he countered.

“…I guess you're right.....but he still seems to be the winner even after all this.”

“He’s not the winner. You’re still the most powerful country in the world, right? You still kick his communist arse back to where it came from. Just because you couldn’t shoot doesn’t mean he’s won.” Arthur patted his shoulder once, and went back to the task at hand.

“Now I’m one of the only powerful countries in the world....but he still manages to get the better of me sometimes.”

“But you hold him back every time.” Arthur was trying not to look at the puckered wound…just the sight made him ill.

“I just wonder why, with all of this, he still manages to get me into Siberia...” He ground out a hiss of pain as Arthur touched a sensitive spot, but said nothing. Arthur gentled his movements even more, if it was possible.

“Mistakes happen, chap. No one is omnipotent.” Arthur assured him.

“But it happens way too much...then I worry a hell of a lot of people.....get myself hurt...”

“Well...just because you’ve given me more heart attacks than I care to admit doesn’t mean he’s stronger than you.”

“He's just more devious and doesn’t care what it takes to win....even if that means inhumane torture.” Arthur thankfully began rewrapping the scary wound.

“See? That’s what makes you better. I know you won’t resort to such practices.”

“No I wouldn’t....especially now that I know how it feels

“Exactly...you know what he’s like, and you know that even for how old he is, he’s still nothing but a cruel child. For once, I can say you’re actually more mature than someone…” Alfred laughed at this.

“If only I could get through to him....everything would be different.”

“That might be impossible, and you know it...” Arthur was cleaning up the supplies, his job done.

“No....it can’t be impossible. There has to be a way to do this....the world can’t take it anymore.”

“I will be the first to agree. But how?” Arthur took the things into the kitchen. Alfred scoffed.

“Don’t you think I’d love to know the answer to that question?”

“It’s a mystery we will gradually have to find out ourselves.” Arthur came back into the room, hands free except for a glass of water, which he handed to Alfred. Alfred leaned back against the couch.

“humph.....well I haven’t got an answer....not after all this time.”

Arthur handed Alfred his bomber jacket back with a rare smile.

“You’ll find it eventually.”

Alfred grinned. “Thanks for the confidence, I guess…” He groaned. “Damn…it’s getting harder to move…”

Arthur cursed under his breath. “Dammit, its because you keep pushing yourself too hard!! Ill confine you to your damn bed if this keeps up!” He sat next to his brother on the sofa.

“Since you're bound to do that anyway and I’m already talking about it....my vision's clouded, I feel like I’m breathing with a boulder on my chest, and I still haven’t gotten movement back in my right arm” he finished the list of his symptoms with a ragged breath. Too much talking was not doing wonders for him. Arthur swore so bad that even one of his pirates would have flinched. He rubbed his hair, and sighed.

“Fine. But you are not leaving this house, or your room, unless I say so. Is... that... clear?” He drew out the last three words for effect.

“But Arthur...” Alfred tried to protest.

“But Arthur nothing! Tch, you are as bad as when you were little.”

“Well.......you do keep saying I never grew up…But Fine…Since I guess I have no other choice…”

“No. You don’t. I’m in bloody charge right now, since you have no means of taking care of yourself.”

“I managed for a week or two...” Alfred tried to redeem himself. Arthur snorted a sarcastic laugh. “Ha! Managed? More like barely survived.”

“Well....it was a bit better at first.....Mattie came over for a few days.....someone had to push me around.” He admitted sheepishly.

“A bit better because you weren’t forcing yourself to stand! Do you still have your wheelchair, because you’re going to need it…” Arthur stood up, stretching his back.

“Yeah…I do....it’s in my room upstairs...” Alfred ventured cautiously.

“Good. You’re not leaving that either.”

“Dude...!!”

“Who’s in charge here?!” Arthur turned on his brother, a protective fire in his eyes.

“But it makes me feel like a cripple!”

“Because right now, you are a cripple!! One of your favorite presidents was a cripple. I lived in one for a couple months, or don’t you remember? It’s not like anyone’s going to see you in it anyway.”

“How do you know! Someone could drop by, it’s not unheard of.” Alfred took another gulp of water.

“Well, it’s not like they’ll think any less of you! I don’t!”

“But…But…it’s so hard to push myself with one and a half arms!!” Alfred was searching for an excuse and failing more than miserably.

“Then you don’t have to. I have perfectly good arms.”

Alfred sighed. “I don’t want you doing all of this.”

“What the hell do you think I came over here for then, other than to "do all this"?”

Alfred sighed, feigning being upset, but his gratitude was radiating from him more than a little noticeably. “Fine. Do whatever you want…”

Arthur nodded his head sharply. “Thank you for permission, I was going to anyway.”

“I may as well consent to it.....not like I have much of a choice.” When Arthur went into Protective-Bro-Mode, not even Russia could do anything to stop him.

“No. You really don’t. I can actually make you do things, since you don’t exactly have your strength back.” Arthur reaffirmed.

“And I wont for who knows how long…”

“Exactly. So you’re stuck with me. I have nothing pressing at the moment, so I’m here until you can care for yourself.”

Alfred grinned. “I can’t promise that'll be anytime soon you know. Nobody knows if something like this could happen again...”

“Like hell I’d let him.” came Arthur’s terse reply.

“I know, I know.....it just doesn’t stop me from worrying that much.”

“It should at least a little. He’d be an absolute idiot to try anything right now.” Arthur tried to convince him. Alfred simply put his hand up and shook his head. Arthur sighed, and went to his things piled up next to the wall.

“I might as well go put my luggage and work up in my room.” He said, trying to change the unpleasant topic.

“Ok...You'd have to get me upstairs somehow, though.....it was a miracle I got down here earlier.” Alfred indicated his wrapped-up torso.

“I don’t even want to know how you did it. Well, when the time comes, I can always carry you.” Came Arthur’s light reply.

“…you really think you can carry me?” Alfred asked incredulously.

“Right now...you can’t even hold your own against me. I think I’m capable of it.”

“Strength and weight are two different things.”

“I’m pretty damn sure I can lift you up, git!” Arthur challenged Alfred’s response to his strength.

“Well you're always complaining about how much I eat…” Alfred joked. Arthur shook his head.

“Deal with it, Alfred; you’re going to have to rely on me for a while. So no questioning what I can do, because odds are, you can’t do it. Not yet, anyway.”

“Ugh...this isn’t going to be easy…but I guess I have no other choice then.”

Arthur looked down at his feet and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Just don’t get yourself into such a situation again, alright?”

“I’ll do my best anyway...Can’t promise anything, though.”

“And if that bastard does anything like this again, I don’t care how bloody strong he is, ill beat him into a bloody pulp, and bugger the consequences!! That wanker needs to know who he’s dealing with here...” Arthur looked straight at his brother, a raging fire in his eyes. His fists were clenched.

“Like you said, it wouldn’t solve much anything.” Alfred tried to dissuade him.

“Maybe so...but it would make me feel better if I could just get one punch in. Just one punch…that’s all I ask. It will be like France...but better. Show that bastard not to mess with my little brother, or he'll have to face the wrath of British!!” He shook his fist at nothing in particular. Alfred laughed the hardest he had ever laughed in weeks. He smiled at the Briton, genuine affection in his eyes.

“Oh Iggy...you're the best.”

Arthur closed an eye and rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment.

“Well..Um…you know I’m not kidding…”

“Yeah, That’s what makes you great…just be careful, alright? I don’t want you ending up like me…”

“Heh heh...you know I don’t go down that easy.” Arthur straightened up.

“Of course not.....you're one tough old man.”

Arthur glared at him. “…I will ignore one word in that comment...”

Alfred laughed again. “As much as you try to get around it, I always bring it back.”

“Unfortunately...and no, I still don’t appreciate it, git.”

Alfred’s next grin was interrupted by a giant yawn. Arthur looked at his watch; it was getting late.

“Alright…let’s get you upstairs, Alfred.” Alfred nodded a little sleepily, and put the glass down.

“Here, if it hurts, tell me.” Arthur bent down and slipped his hands underneath Alfred’s back and underneath his legs. He lifted him up without much trouble, and Alfred grabbed his shoulders to steady himself.

“I’d prefer it if you held my torso a bit tighter…” Alfred said through clenched teeth. Arthur adjusted his grip, and Alfred lost his look of pain.

“Better? Ready to try moving? Damn, you’re just a little heavier than I thought…” Nothing he couldn’t matter, he thought to himself.

“Yeah, we can go.....my top half just needs a lot more support than the rest of me.” Alfred explained.

“I figured as much...” Arthur began heading up the stairs at a slow, steady pace, slowing down just a bit when Alfred complained the bumping was going to injure him even more than the bullet did. Once they reached Alfred’s room, Arthur gently settled him on the bed. Alfred let out a sigh of relief.

“Anything else you need?” Arthur asked, stretching the muscles in his shoulders. Alfred stuttered.

“Um…well....maybe just one thing......though I feel stupid asking for it....”

Arthur crossed his arms in wait. “Alfred, you know I won’t laugh.”

Alfred squirmed. “Well uh.....do you think......maybe.....you could stay in here?” He anxiously waited for an answer. Arthur grinned.

“....of course...you have a desk, I could work in here for a time before turning in.” Alfred’s face lit up.

“Alright! Sounds good.”

“Alright, I’ll be right back.”

Arthur headed down to the living room to grab his briefcase stuffed to the brim with work needing getting done by next week. When he returned, Alfred had already pulled the covers up around him. He yawned.

“Why am I so tired this early…it’s not natural…”

Arthur laid the briefcase on the desk and turned out the main light while turning on the small desk lamp. “Well, either your body needs rest, or I slipped a sedative in your water.”

Alfred stared at his brother, incredulous. “You what!??!?!”

Arthur shrugged. “Or both…Oh, don’t look at me that way! You need the bloody sleep, don’t complain...”

“Why can’t I complain about you drugging me?!”

“Look, you need it! Your injuries would keep you up otherwise.” He sat down at the desk and pulled out the first budget paper.

“Well....I really don’t think that it would make a difference-“Alfred was interrupted by a long yawn. Arthur turned to him.

“Is my light bothering you? When I’m done I can head back to my room…”

Alfred shook his head. “No, no, I don’t have a headache or anything, so its fine. But there is room…You can just stay in here…”

“…Fine by me.”

Alfred yawned ferociously again. “Well since this stuff is kicking in really well now...I doubt ill be able to.......stay up much longer.” Alfred’s eyes began to close against his will. Arthur smiled widely as his pen began to scratch across the page.

“Alright...I’ll see you in the morning then, Alfred.”

Alfred didn’t hear him…he was already out for the count.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Alfred looked over at the message he just received.

_Our intelligence points to a Russian invasion of Lithuania, precautions will be taken as we star-_

He didn't bother looking at the rest of the message. He needed to stop Russia again, and he needed to do it that minute.

“I'm sorry Arthur...”

He got fully dressed, gathering his usual armaments, placing them on his person. He didn't have much time if he was going to make it before anything happened. He popped a few pain killers and made his way silently through the house and into his jet.

* * *

 

Arthur was awoken by the sound of the plane taking off, putting two and two together very quickly, seeing as though Alfred was nowhere to be found in the house. He couldn't find the reason for his disappearance at first, but then found the message, left carelessly on the coffee table.

“That bloody idiot...Why would he just run into something like this...”

Arthur needed to find a way to Lithuania, and fast. He didn't have any way of getting over there himself, but he did find someone who would drop him off.

Alfred knocked furiously on Lithuania's door. He needed to get him out of there, so that it was just the two of them fighting alone. Lithuania tentatively opened the door, but realizing it was just America, easily showed his hospitality. Though after Alfred explained the situation, he simply agreed to leave the house temporarily. Alfred would be waiting, just waiting for the Russian to come through the door. He didn't have to wait long though, as he barely arrived before Ivan.

“I thought maybe you had given up, Ivan”

“Ah Mr. Jones, I have to say, I did not expect you with those fresh injuries not healed, da?”

“It's no business of yours”

“Where is my little Lithuania? I came all the way here to be seeing him”

“I sent him away. I didn't want him accidentally getting hurt”

“Oh, I see. I am with going through you first? That is fine with me”

“Then bring it on, commie”

They exchanged a few blows, their usual way of fighting, but Ivan was right, Alfred's wounds were going to hinder him more than he thought. He was keeping up, but just barely. It sent waves of pain through his body every time that he moved with any jerky movement. His pride wouldn't let him stop though, his honor, his dignity, other's freedom. Lithuania's front room looked like a war zone, tables overturned, glass broken, pictures strewn across the floor. It often happened, pretty much like that with the destruction of wherever they were, though only one party managed to clean it up later. There wasn't much fighting going on by now, though there was a rather climactic portion. Ivan, knowing full well the holes in Alfred's abdomen, he put them there after all, pulled out the lead plumbing tool. He pushed it straight through the still healing wound in his chest. He cleared the chest cavity easily, pulling the pipe out of the other side.

“You...bastard....”

Alfred fell onto his knees. He wasn't about to give up, but he knew it would be a lot harder now. He pushed as hard as he could with his left hand on his heart, while bracing himself off the floor with the other. Ivan had pulled out his gun and was ready to continue the fight when he was caught off guard by someone bursting through the door. Arthur made it, more or less on time, and was going to keep his promise. Alfred was a bit relieved to see his brother standing up to the Russian, but had bigger problems at that moment. He lifted his hand off his chest, the blood covered it completely. He was now feeling a small trickle down the corner of his mouth, he knew he didn't have any time. His body was becoming twitchy and unresponsive, but something kicked him out of it. Ivan had pulled out his gun, unloading at least one shot into the Brit's arm. Anything else didn't matter at that point, Alfred had snapped. He jumped up off the floor, gave no regard to his injuries, and pulled out his sub-machine gun. He tackled the Russian onto the floor, pointing the barrel at his chest.

“I thought I told you, this was between you and me! You dare bring anyone else into this...You're going to pay for that you communist bastard.”

Alfred didn't know how long he held down the trigger, but it was long enough to stop their squabbling for months. Arthur finally managed to drag him out of the house, though now noticing the problem.

“Dude...are you ok? I know...that he...he-”

Alfred collapsed onto the ground, his strength leaving him again. He pushed at his chest, but his body was convulsing under him. He gasped for air in staggered breaths, his vision fading.

“Damn...not...again....”

“Alfred...I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise”

“No...it's not...your fault-”

His head finally fell onto his hand. He was still breathing, though barely, but they were now in a pool of the American's blood.

“Al...”

He reached into the other's bomber jacket, pulling out the keys to his jet. Alfred had taught him how to fly a plane a few times before, but those were just training planes, very simple. Arthur, with some difficulty, managed to get the younger to the plane in a hurry. He placed him in the back, hoping that the restraints would help keep the blood inside his body. Arthur, meanwhile, was in the pilots seat, staring blankly at the spread in front of him. It was like looking at an alien calendar written on cheese from the medieval age. The only thing he knew for certain was how start the radio. He did that, calling for anyone on his frequency. Luckily for him, someone answered.

*Brigadier General Grayson here, what's your status?*

*Grayson? Oh thank God. It's Arthur, Arthur Kirkland*

*Mr. Kirkland? What are you doing on the General's radio?*

*I don't have time to explain. I need some instruction here, Alfred is...incapacitated at the moment*

*And you expect to fly? An F-22 fighter is one of the most complicated systems active today-*

*Don't tell me that. Just how do I do it?*

*You didn't let me finish. And I can fly it remotely if you just set up the remote piloting system. Do you see a small blue switch near the radio control? Flip that down while injecting the fuel. Then I need you to open the glass box, pushing down the orange and green buttons, then start the jet*

*Oh is that all? I thought you said it would be hard...*

*It's a hell of a lot easier than flying it yourself. Though I'm obliged to tell you that I can only fly you to the General's residence*

*That is perfectly acceptable, only, we will need an ambulance on arrival*

*I can have that arranged. Now just sit back, I'll have you over here in half an hour*

The trip was fine and relatively smooth considering that the pilot was thousands of miles away. They landed and were greeted by the paramedics, taking them both to the nearest hospital. Alfred was taken straight to the emergency room, while Arthur's wounds were treated. He promised himself he wouldn't leave his little brother this time. He would be there when he woke up.

* * *

 

It took a few hours in the surgery room, for the second time in just a few weeks. The hole was much larger this time, though the wound was stressed by the movement that Alfred had insisted upon after he started bleeding again. They brought him out and into a private room, where Arthur could finally see him again. A young nurse was attending on him, it looked as though she had done this before.

“Alright, well Mr. Kirkland. He's set up here for now, but it's very temporary. I'm pretty sure he'll heal better if you took him home, he hates hospitals you know. Something about the white rooms, he said one time. I'll get you all set and...oh! I had this brought over from his house”

She pushed out his wheelchair from the other side of the bed. Red, white, and blue. Covered in stars and silver-lined paint. It was very much like him to have something like that. So outlandish.

“He actually likes riding around in it if you can manage to get to him sit down in the chair”

“Pardon my asking, but have you attended on him before?”

“Oh yes! I have ever since I started working here a few years ago! He's always assigned one nurse for the duration of their time at the hospital! I've seen him a lot recently though...You! You need to keep him out of here for at least a few months!”

“Um..Well alright...I'll do my best”

“Good. I don't like seeing him like this, he's always so energetic and happy, it brings us all down when he's not”

“I'm sure...”

“So you're going to take good care of him, alright? You need to make sure he doesn't move around too much, that he actually eats and takes his medicine. Keep him away from all that work he think he has to do. We've already talked to people and gotten him out of it, so he can just relax. He'll never recover if he keeps doing this. I'm not big into politics, but keep him away from whoever did this. Oh, and call Mr. Williams if you have too much trouble with him on your own. He will get his strength back again, but that doesn't mean he can go off and do stuff again. The doctor or I will call when we need to see him again to okay that he can start work again. You getting all of this?”

“Yes, of course. I was planning on this all along”

“Good. I'm holding you responsible ok? Now here's his list of medications and physical therapy. If you have any questions, feel free to call me. I left my card on that sheet. It's best if you get him out of here before he wakes up, he'll be easy to transport like that”

“Yes, well...How am I supposed to get him to his house?”

“Oh that, I'll drive”

“You will what now? I don't see how-”

“In a bus, of course. I'll get you there in no time. Here, look. He's going to have this oxygen for a few days, so make sure he doesn't take it out. It hooks in right at the edge of the chair, then again on a bedpost or table”

England stood there, quite confused as to what had just occurred. He didn't know how to respond to the young lady, but she was off again before he could get it straight. He shook it off and got Alfred inside before he could wake up.

“What a peculiar young lady. There really is quite a mix in Alfred's people, though she acts a bit like him. Hm, curious. I guess all of his people do in one way or another. First things first, I'll get him up to his room”

The stair railing actually was modified earlier in the year to accommodate the chair, having two tracks that would allow the chair to ascend the stairs as well as someone to propel them up while still walking up them. Arthur rested him in his bed with ease, and decided that precautions early would save him some hassle later on. He wrapped cloth around both legs and across the shoulders and collar bone, temporarily attaching Alfred to the bed. In his current condition, he wouldn't be able to release himself. Arthur then made himself comfortable in a reclining chair that was next to the bed, checking on his own wound, but finding nothing too serious.

A few hours later, Alfred finally stirred on the bed, the sedatives were finally wearing off. When he opened his eyes and found himself in his own room, he was a bit confused and tried to sit up. The cloth barred him from such action, as well as the lack of circulation to his body.

“What the...”

It took a few seconds for him to regain his place, everything that had happened. When he did finally realize everything, he thrashed about more on the bed than Arthur would have liked.

“Would you calm down, git, moving about like that won't help you”

“Wait...how did...”

“I got you out of there, remember? From your idiotic stunt”

“Well...I-”

“No, there's no need to explain yourself. You just enjoy putting your people through this don't you? You have everyone worry for you, and for what? You only seemed to care for revenge, some useless atonement. Why do you think you have to do these moronic things, huh?! Sometimes I don't think you quite comprehend what's going on here! Don't you think your people could have handled it? Oh no, I forgot, you enjoy giving me a heart attack and nearly getting yourself killed. It's actions like these that you just can't do anymore, Alfred! You put way too much on the line for bloody nothing. Just, for once in your life, stop these antics! Yes, believe it or not, you can be the hero without holes through your heart! The young nurse cares about you, your whole country bloody cares about you and all you're doing is making them upset, and quite frankly, you're making me quite upset right now. You never learn do you? You're not moving from this spot for weeks, you hear me! You're not even going to go outside until I say you can. You're so immature, I can't even trust you with yourself. When will you learn that all of this is pointless unless you get your act together?! I'm stopping you from making another stupid decision, and you're going to deal with it!”

“Arthur I'm....I'm sorry...”

“No, you can't just fix this like that. It's not a game, Alfred. You're gambling more than you even know”

“Why...Why are you still here then...”

“Because I'm not giving up on you, even if you are a bloody moron. You need guidance, someone to help you, and lately, I haven't been doing that. I'm not blaming myself for what you did, but I should have been watching you. I'll keep a closer eye on you now”

“Wait...I-”

“No, we'll talk when you're well enough to. I have a list of things you have to do and don't even think about getting out of that bed or I will personally teach you a lesson”

He had to be harsh, or Alfred would not have fully understood that he needed to change. He couldn't go out and do those things anymore, too much was riding on him now.

* * *

 

A few weeks past with Alfred confined to his room, though he was due for a check up by the doctor today.

“Alfred, stop acting like a child and just get in the bloody thing”

He was holding the wheelchair, the only form of transport that the near cripple had at this point in his recovery. Even though that statement was true, he did not want anything to do with the chair set in front of him. It had been going on for fifteen minutes or so, a back and forth between the brothers, but someone had to win. Arthur was still able to overpower the American, so they were off to the hospital in no time. Alfred fussed about, but had no way of getting what he wanted. Even weeks after the incident, he had little control over his body, though he was now off the oxygen.

“Good job Mr. Kirkland. I can see that he's been in bed the entire time. Well, though you are healing up quite nicely, I am going to recommend another week for full bed, then probably up to start some physical therapy. Don't push too hard though when you do get up and walk about”

“I won't...I think I learned my lesson last time”

“It's learnt, git...”

“Yah, sure, whatever dude. So anything else?”

“No, everything else is coming along well. I will see you in a few weeks”

“Thanks doc! Ugh, another week of doing nothing in bed”

“That's correct, you are not moving from there for another week. I'm determined to make sure you heal properly and there isn't going to be any complaining from you”

“Yah, yah I know...Though this is that protective brother thing to the max huh...”

“I obviously didn't do a good enough job last time. I will make up for it here”

“I would say that you're doing too much for me, but you never seem to care much when I complain”

“Because it's unfounded. I do what I want, nothing more, nothing less”

“I know you do...And thanks bro, I couldn't do any of this without you”

He turned and hugged him from the chair. Though feeling a bit awkward, it was returned by the Brit.

“Anytime Alfred...Anytime”


End file.
